


The Icicle Melts

by gillasue345, HerRosesNeverFall



Series: Hell is for Children [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Cisswap, F/M, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Miscarriage, Pre-Series, Teen Pregnancy, Weechesters, everything is the same except Dean is cisswapped, fem!dean, robin is cisswapped as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 05:45:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7672399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillasue345/pseuds/gillasue345, https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerRosesNeverFall/pseuds/HerRosesNeverFall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Now remember Dee, you gotta get that sonofabitch right in the heart. If you take a shot, don’t miss because you won’t get a second one.” John popped a magazine of silver bullets into Deanna’s nickel plated handgun before handing it back over to her.</p><p>“I know Dad.” Deanna sighed, taking the gun from him. “You’ve told me a thousand times." She ran her fingers across the etched vine design of the barrel before she wrapped her hands tight around its ivory grip, trying to stop their trembling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Icicle Melts

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Hell is for Children 'Verse. Written by HerRosesNeverFall and beta'd by gillasue345

The Icicle Melts

> [I should not have read the paper today, ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4iFVMFYlwc)  
>  ['Cause a child, child, child, child he was taken away.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M4iFVMFYlwc)  
> 

  
**_August 11, 1995._**

**_Daniels, West Virginia._**  
  
“Now remember Dee, you gotta get that sonofabitch right in the heart. If you take a shot, _don’t_ miss because you won’t get a second one.” John popped a magazine of silver bullets into Deanna’s nickel plated handgun before handing it back over to her. 

“ _I know_ Dad.” Deanna sighed, taking the gun from him. “You’ve told me a thousand times." She ran her fingers across the etched vine design of the barrel before she wrapped her hands tight around its ivory grip, trying to stop their trembling.

John shot her a look, his eyes narrowing at her tone while he popped a magazine into his own handgun. 

“Sorry, Sir.” Deanna’s voice was quiet as she put the gun on safety and placed it onto placed it into her lap, quickly pulling her long hair up into ponytail with a scrunchie. The summer sun had lightened it to an almost pale blonde, easily visible against the moonlight. She debated wearing baseball cap to hide it.

John didn’t say another word as he climbed out of the Impala, shutting the door behind him. 

Deanna followed him. When she shut the car door however, she felt her stomach twist. She stopped, putting her hand against the body of the Impala, feeling fatigue wash over her. She had been feeling like this on and off for a few weeks now. 

She figured the muggy summer air didn’t agree with her, tiring her out more quickly than normal. After pausing only briefly she followed John into the thick Appalachian woods; the full moon casting a cool glow around in them in what otherwise was a very hot and sticky night. 

West Virginia was the furthest south and the furthest west they had gotten in months. John had spent all spring and summer hunting a rash of werewolves all clustered around the Northeast: two college students at Keene State, a bartender in South Boston, a pair of siblings in the Catskills, a whole family in Lancaster County.

John was positive that the one they were hunting tonight was the pack leader. With any luck, this would be last kill and the last hunt for a while.

Deanna hoped that it would be. She and Sam would be starting school in a few weeks and with all the werewolf tracking and hunts, John still hadn’t signed either of them up for classes. She had gotten good grades while she was at Sonny’s Home and she hoped to keep it up. It felt good for her to succeed at school for once. It was of the many reasons why Deanna almost wished she could have stayed.

And then of course, there was Robbie. Deanna missed the way Stairway to Heaven sounded on his old acoustic guitar. She missed the taste of his lips. She missed the way his voice echoed through the barn as he described the road trip he was going to take for his college portfolio on the cool nights they lay together in the hay loft, his fingers tracing across her naked back and tangled deeply in her hair. 

Deanna missed it all. She missed going to the movies on Friday night as a reward for her good grades and hard work at the farm. She missed the peach pies and vanilla ice cream she made from scratch. She missed painting the porch on Sunday morning. She missed the afternoons she spent working on Sonny’s ancient pickup truck. Fixing the engine had been a project of hers. 

She missed the normal life she had for those two fleeting months where she got to be a teenage girl for once.When she was allowed to wear plaid skirts and sundresses and express her crush on Jared Leto. When she could wear makeup and paint her nails. She didn’t have to worry about John forcing her bind her chest, cut her hair, wear boy clothes and call herself ‘Dean’ in the skeevy motel rooms and parts of town where being Deanna wasn’t safe for her.

But she knew it wouldn't last. Good things in her life never did. She had to leave Sonny’s. She had to go back with John. She _couldn’t_ leave him Sammy alone. She couldn’t leave Dad alone. It was her job to keep the family together.

After a short walk down a barely discernible game trail, she and John came upon a small clearing with a wooden cabin in the center of it. It was run down and secluded, but lived in. There were sheets hanging up on a line, billowing silently in the warm breeze. Through the curtained windows, Deanna could see a light.

They had just crept out of the woods and deeper into the clearing when Deanna felt her stomach twist again. But this was different. It was something she hadn’t felt before. A flutter. Deanna stopped dead in her tracks at the feel of it, her brow furrowing in confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” John hissed turning around as soon as her footsteps stopped. “What’s the holdup kiddo? 

“It’s nothing, Dad.” Deanna shook her head as she started walking again. “My stomach’s just been acting weird lately.” 

“You positive?” John stopped just before they reached the door of the cabin. He cocked an eyebrow at her, sticking his arm out in front of her. “How about you stay out here? Be my back up instead.”Frustration tinged his voice.

“No. I’m fine.”Deanna nodded. “Let’s get this sucker.”

The door was unlocked. The werewolf thought it was safe and wasn’t expecting a fight. As they walked inside, guns pointed and ready to shoot, they found what had once been a human torso laying on the kitchen table, a bloody trail leading into the bedroom. John followed it while Deanna stayed in the kitchen, keeping guard.

It was then that Deanna heard it, a low growling sound coming from behind her. She cursed under her breath. She had forgotten to spot her corners. Deanna turned to find the werewolf standing behind the door, his bearded face caked in blood and his eyes ravenous. 

Deanna raised her gun and fired at it. 

To her absolute shock, she missed, the bullet just barely grazing the werewolf’s arm. It charged at her, kicking her hard in the stomach. Deanna fell backwards to the floor with a scream. He straddled her hips, his fangs bared and ready to bite, when suddenly there was a loud bang, followed by the werewolf collapsing on top of her with the thud. Deanna turned her head, pushing the him off her body to see John standing in the kitchen, his gun raised, fear and anger etched across his face.

“Dee you alright?”He yelled as he ran over her. 

“Yeah Dad, I’m fine.” She said with a wince as she picked herself up off the floor. “I... I missed.”

John raised an eyebrow at her statement. 

Deanna was a better shot than he was. 

“It’s fine,” John said slowly, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Let’s go.” His voice shook as he looked over at the werewolf than back to Deanna before turning to leave the cabin. 

They were just out the door when it happened. Deanna felt a cramp, sharp and painful, in her lower stomach, just below her belly button. Far worse than any cramps she ever had. She fell to her knees with a groan that was more like a cry, her hands wrapped tightly around her stomach as her torso curled into itself on the floor. Deanna felt something wet creep down the leg of her jeans. Her eyes grew wide as she watched the light blue denim become soaked with crimson. “Dad!” She shrieked.

“What’s wrong, Dee? What happened?” John crouched down on the floor next to her, his voice filled with panic as he frantically checked her arms, torso and back for wounds or bite marks. “What’s wrong, Dee? What happened?”

Deanna shook her head through a wince. “I don’t know—” She cried out again. “Jesus! It hurts!”

John quickly scooped her up into his arms. His face fell as he caught sight of the blood and looked at Deanna, a lump visible in his throat. He sprinted out of the cabin and all the way through the forest, back to the Impala. He lay Deanna down in the front seat before he ran around to the driver’s side. The door was barely closed when he started the ignition and drove off. 

“Dad, what is this?” Deanna sobbed, her arms shoved between her legs. “It hurts. Why’s there’s so much blood?”

John gently stroked her hair. “It’s okay Baby. You’re gonna be okay,” he soothed.John’s voice was unnatural in its comfort as it filled the cab. It was so quiet Deanna almost couldn’t hear it over the roar of the engine and her own cries as he sped down country back roads and highway. John had taken her to the emergency room many times after a hunt, but he never acted like this. She couldn’t even remember the last time he had called her ‘Baby’ without a fifth of Jack Daniels in his system.

All of fifteen minutes later, John pulled into the driveway of Raleigh General Hospital, slamming on the breaks. He parked the car and carried Deanna into the emergency room, where nurses put her on a gurney. 

The last thing Deanna heard as she was wheeled down the hallway were the phrases, ‘teenage girl’ and ‘miscarriage’ coming from the mouths of the two of the nurses before her head started to spin, dizzy with nausea and pain. After that, everything went black. 

_____

Deanna could hear someone calling her name. Muffled, concerned, but nevertheless emotionally detached. Slowly, she opened her eyes at the sound of it to a find a female doctor sitting by her bedside. 

“Deanna?” The doctor looked at her with concern. “How are you feeling?” 

Deanna stared at the woman for a second. “Sore,” hhe croaked out.Her entire pelvic area ached. “W—What happened?” 

“My name is Doctor Rose. You’re in the hospital because you had a spontaneous rupture of membranes, causing a termination of pregnancy.”    
  
Deanna winced, letting out a confused breath. “What?”    
  
“You had a miscarriage.” Doctor Rose’s voice was careful. 

Deanna froze. Her eyes went wide. “A _miscarriage_?”

“Yes.” Doctor Rose nodded. “Because you had such severe hemorrhaging, we performed an emergency D&C.”

All the pieces fell together. She had been pregnant. That’s what those strange little flutters were. That was why her jeans were getting tighter. She had thought she had just put on weight in New York that she couldn’t seem shed no matter how hard she trained. That it was the exceptionally hot summer making her nauseous. 

She didn’t have much reason to think differently. She didn’t regularly get her period and when she did, usually it wasn’t much more than spotting. A week before leaving Sonny’s she’d had what she thought was one so she hadn’t thought anything of it. 

She was pregnant. She _had been_ pregnant. Her body stiffened with the realization of what that meant. Deanna looked down at her stomach in horror. Slowly, she placed her hand on top of her belly. She was silent for moment before her voice cracked out. “Ho—how far along was I?” Her eyes didn’t move away from her stomach.

“You were into your second trimester. Approximately sixteen weeks.” Dr. Rose paused, observing her. “Deanna, did you know that you were pregnant?” 

“No.”

“Do you know who the father was?”

Robbie. It was Robbie. He was the last person she had slept with. He was her _boyfriend_. He had _loved_ her and she had loved him for those few precious weeks they had together. A vicious pain ripped across her chest, halting the breath in her lungs. She could feel tears starting to well up in her eyes, but she fought them down with a clearing of her throat. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Deanna shrugged, doing her best to feign apathy.

Doctor Rose furrowed her brow. “Was it… _consensual_?” 

“Yeah.” Deanna nodded. “Very.”

Doctor Rose paused for a moment, watching her.“What’s your relationship like with your father Deanna? Would you say that it’s…strained?” 

“It’s fine.” 

Doctor Rose shifted in her chair. “Is there any chance that your father might have known or suspected that you were pregnant?” 

“No.” Deanna voice was blunt. 

“Listen, Deanna.” Doctor Rose shot her a look and signed. “You’ve got a large bruise on your lower abdomen. What happened?” 

“We were hiking— _camping_ in the woods. I tripped and fell.” Deanna bit down on her lip hard. She didn’t say anything more. She _couldn’t_ say anything more. 

Doctor Rose shook her head. “You don’t need to protect your father Deanna. If he did this to you—”

“My Dad didn’t do jack _shit_ to me,” Deanna snapped. Her eyes narrowed at the doctor as she started to cry. “It’s my fault I lost the baby. _My fault_.” 

It was her fault she got kicked. It was her fault she missed the shot on the werewolf. It was her fault she let John goad her into going on a hunt when she didn't feel well. It was her fault she shrugged off a couple missed periods.It was her fault she wasn’t careful. She didn't protect her baby. She didn't do her job. 

Deanna Winchester had managed to let someone down without ever meeting them.

“It’s alright.” Doctor Rose stood from her chair and placed a hand on Deanna’s shoulder. “I’ll come back later. You need some time to process this and rest.” The doctor left the room. 

Deanna waited until the doctor was gone before she let out her first sob.

_____  
  
Deanna had been sleeping when the doctor knocked on her door after lunch. She walked over to the side of Deanna’s bed, a clipboard in her hand. “The lab results on your blood work came back,” she said simply.

Deanna sat up in her bed, her head still spinning from pain killers she had been given. Her tired eyes locked on Doctor Rose. “And?”She took a deep breath as she played with her hospital bracelet. 

“It was a boy.” Doctor Rose said gently. She looked at clipboard quickly before lowering it. “He had no genetic defects, infections or other problems that would have caused a miscarriage this late into your pregnancy. You are young and healthy, despite being a little underweight. The autopsy determined the cause of the miscarriage was blunt force trauma to your abdomen, causing a tear in the placenta and uterine lining. This caused a hemorrhage that the fetus could not survive. If your father hadn't gotten you here when he did, you might have perished along with your baby.”

“So it— _he_ …” Deanna paused. “He was healthy?” 

That was the last thing Deanna wanted to hear. It was the last thing she needed to hear and she hated Doctor Rose for confirming that the miscarriage was entirely her fault. It would have been a little easier if he had never been viable, but he hadn’t been. He’d been healthy. If she hadn’t been kicked, he would have survived and she could have carried him to term. She _killed_ him. She killed him because she was monumentally stupid. 

“As far as I can tell, yes.” Doctor Rose turned at the sound of someone knocking at the door. Two police officers, one male one female, stood in the doorway of the hospital room. “Deanna, these are Officers Jenkins and Williams. They’d like to speak to you for a moment if that’s alright.” Doctor Rose gestured for them to come in. She took a seat in the reclining chair by Deanna’s bed. 

Dread washed over Deanna as she locked eyes on Officer Williams, a red haired woman in her twenties. Female police officers were always brought in during matters of domestic abuse. 

This wasn’t the first time a doctor had reported John to the police and usually Deanna was great at bluffing her way through police interrogations. 

Like that one time an officer asked her what she and her eight year old brother were doing alone in a motel room the night she rushed Sam to the ER when he had the flu. That other time John took her to get stitches and the doctor was concerned about how thin she was.Normally she could handle it, but this time they thought John was the reason she lost the baby and they had evidence to support it. This time they would be extra persistent and Deanna couldn’t handle it. Not today. Not this time. 

Officer Williams walked over to Deanna’s bedside. “Doctor Rose told us that you didn’t know that you were pregnant?” She looked at Deanna for a moment. “Were you a virgin before you conceived the baby, Deanna?”There was a slight tinge of presumption in the officer’s voice. 

Deanna wasn’t sure if it was a legitimate police question or an assumption being made by a police officer from the Bible Belt. Either way Deanna scoffed, trying to put on her best smirk. “That wasn’t my first rodeo if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Officer Williams folded her arms. “So you know how babies are conceived and you know what a missed period means.”

“Yeah. I do.”

“But you didn't know you were pregnant?” 

Deanna glanced over at Officer Jenkins who was rapidly taking notes as Officer Williams questioned her. She furrowed her brow. “I didn’t know I was pregnant,” she stated flatly. “Why does that matter?”

“Because Doctor Rose said you were into your second trimester. And when she asked who the father was, you told her that it didn’t matter.” Officer Williams’ voice took an accusatory tone as she glanced quickly at her partner. “Did you _know_ that you were pregnant, but were hiding it? Did you have _a reason_ to be hiding it? Where you _ashamed_ of the baby?” She paused. “Or of who the father was?” 

Deanna glared at the Officer Williams. “I’m not ‘ashamed’ of the baby.” Disgust filled her voice. She paused for moment, a lump growing in her throat. “If I _knew_ I was pregnant I wouldn’t’ve let them hurt me. I would have protected him. I wouldn’t have been such a _stupid_ idiot.”

“How were you an idiot, Deanna?” Officer Williams’ tone switched suddenly to that of concern. “What do you mean ‘let them hurt you’? Who hurt you Deanna?” 

Deanna winced, biting her lip. She was trapped now. Officer Williams had played her and played her good. “N—no one.” Deanna shifted. “I’m just a stupid girl and that’s all you need to know.” 

“Was it your father?” Officer Williams’ words were as blunt as they were leading. “Did your father do this do this to you? Did he _hurt_ you?”

Deanna eyes went wide. “No!”  she snapped, angry tears welling up in her eyes. “My dad’s a good man! He’s a hero! Would he would _never_ —” Tears started to well up in her eyes. “Get fuck away from me. Now.” 

“You should leave.”Doctor Rose stood up, gesturing the police officers to the door. “This is too much for her handle right now.”She quickly escorted led them out of the room and into the hall.

Doctor Rose returned a moment later without them. “I’m sorry Deanna, I had to call them.” 

“Fuck you. My dad _saved me_.” Deanna glared at Doctor Rose, brushing tears from her eyes as she lay back down, turning away from the doctor. “Get out.”

Doctor Rose left the room without another word.

_____

During dinner, Deanna’s nurse, Lizzie, came into the room to check on her. Much to Deanna’s surprise, she had a small blue gift bag in her hand. 

“I got you something on my break.” A comforting smile formed across her mouth as she walked over to the bed, placing the bag on top of the blanket.

Out of all the hospital staff Deanna had come in contact with, she liked Lizzie the most. They had a shared love of Led Zeppelin and she took time to help braid Deanna’s hair that morning.

Deanna put the peanut butter and jelly sandwich she had been picking at down onto the tray before she grabbed the bag, pulling a black leather bound journal and Bic pen from it. She stared at it for a second. “What’s this for?” she asked.

“I thought you needed something to help with what you’re going through. Writing can help you confront your feelings and process them.”Lizzie paused. “It might help you grieve.” 

“Grieve?” Deanna scoffed. “How am I supposed to grieve something I didn’t even know about until after—” She cut herself off, shaking her head. “I don’t see how this could help.”

“You might be surprised.” Lizzie replied. 

“Yeah? How the fuck do you know?” She tossed the journal down onto the scratchy blanket, her fingers trembling. 

Lizzie paused before she spoke again, taking a deep breath. “I lost my first baby at fourteen weeks. I thought _nothing_ would get me through it. Then my friend Annabelle gave me this journal.” She pulled out a small green notebook, the size of a postcard. “I started writing. And it helped. I wrote a letter to them on what would have been their due date and I filled page after page with baby names. _That_ helped a lot. I spent two whole pages cursing God for taking my baby away from me.”

Deanna was quiet for a long moment. She picked the journal back up and opened it, flipping through the clean and stiff pages. “Did you ever decide on a name?” 

“William if it was a boy and Amy if it was a girl.” Lizzie nodded. “And you know the gender so you could name him.”

Deanna paused. “Thanks,” she whispered. 

Lizzie brushed her fingers over Deanna’s shoulder with a sad smile. “You’re welcome kiddo, now finish eating and I’ll be back in a little bit with your meds okay?”

Deanna nodded. She put the journal down next to her and picked the sandwich back up from the tray.After she was done eating, she picked the journal back up, skimming through it again. 

She stopped four pages from the back and removed the cap from the pen. ‘Lennon’ was the first name she wrote down on the page in bolded lettering.When Lizzie came back with her medication, she had filled a whole page with baby names. By the time she went to bed that night, she had filled two more pages.

_____

Deanna woke up to the sensation of a stinging pain in her right a hand. Her eyes opened slowly, falling on a half-shadowed figure in a baggy USMC sweatshirt and black baseball cap standing at the side of her bed, pressing a folded gauze pad and medical tape to where her IV had been. “Dad?” 

She blinked, still half asleep. 

“Put these on,” John whispered as he dropped a duffle bag on her bed, pulling a large T-shirt and a pair of sleep pants from it and placing them next to her. “We gotta get you outta here.”

“I can’t.” Deanna’s head wobbled as she sat up in her bed. “The doctor said I had to stay here for at least two more days.” 

“I know that.” John went around her room and grabbed the plastic bag containing her clothes and jewelry and tossed it into the duffle. “But those fuckin’ cops are asking too many questions. And they found that damn werewolf on top of it. We gotta get the hell outta Dodge.” 

Deanna sighed.She reached over to the side of her bed and grabbed her journal, tossing it the direction of the bag. John shoved it into the duffle as he helped her change out of her hospital gown and into the T-shirt and sleep pants. He then lifted her into his arms and, as carefully and quietly as he could manage, he carried her out of the hospital room, checking to make sure the hallway was clear before he moved down it to an exit. He took what looked like a back staircase that led to a patio where Deanna assumed nurses and doctors came to smoke. It was empty now, at this late hour. John had parked the car near the patio’s entrance and he carried her over to the Impala, setting her down before helping her into the front seat.

Sam was sprawled out on the backseat, passed out cold and wrapped in the quilt they kept in back.

There was silence in the Impala as they drove off aside from Sam’s snoring and the roar of the engine. Not even the radio was turned on. John was utterly quiet. _His_ silence was the worst part. For the first fifteen minutes of the drive, Deanna waited for John to open up his mouth and lay into her as angrily as he could without waking Sam. When half an hour passed and still he hadn’t spoken, she dozed off again. 

Deanna went in and out of sleep, her head resting against the window, for nearly hour. Finally, just as John had turned onto Interstate 81, he broke the silence.

“Deanna?” His voice was calm, but loud enough to wake her.

She lifted her head up from the window, rubbing her eyes. “Yes, sir?” Her voice was utterly quiet.

John glanced at her quickly before his eyes focused back on the road. “Did you know?”There was concern in his question. _Sadness_ even. 

Deanna was silent for long moment. She stared at him briefly. “No.” She shook her head. “I don’t get my…period …a lot so I didn’t think anything of it.” Her voice trembled as she looked away.  
  
John didn’t say anything.  
  
Deanna looked at him again, longer this time before her eyes turned down to her stomach. She ran her hands over it a few times before she stopped, resting both of them top of it. Tears quickly filled her eyes. “I’m sorry Daddy.” Her body shook as she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”   
  
“Oh Baby, it’s okay.” John’s voice broke. He reached over, wrapping his arm around her waist, and pulled her closer to him. “You’re gonna be alright.” 

Deanna buried her face into his shoulder, breathing in his familiar, safe scent of Winston cigarettes while she cried. She cried until she fell back asleep. 

She woke up briefly when John pulled the car into a rest stop just outside of Nashville. She was stirred again a few moments later by the sound of someone knocking on the glass of the car window. Her eyes opened to find Sam standing outside the car door, a bag of donut holes and a bottle of Yoo-hoo in his hand. “You wanna split breakfast with me DeeGee?”He asked through the rolled up window glass.

Deanna opened the door and climbed out of the car with a wince. She threw her arms around Sam’s shoulders, hugging him as tears glossed over her eyes.“I love you Sammy. I love you so much.”

“Dee...” Sam blinked in confusion. “Why are you crying?” 

“Cuz I’m happy that you’re my baby brother.” Deanna wiped tears away. “That’s all.” 

“Sam, your sister’s not feeling good.” John walked back over to the car with a cup of coffee in his hand. “You be good for her and you watch out for her. You got that?”

Sam nodded. “Yes, Sir.” He gave both of them confused looks as he scooted into the backseat. 

Deanna followed Sam into the backseat. She glanced at John briefly as she curled herself up next to her brother where he handed her donuts and they took turns passing the bottle between them until she fell asleep again. The last thing she noticed was Sam carefully wrapping the quilt around her shoulders.

She slept until John stopped at a Motel 6 in Little Rock. Even then, apart from using the bathroom, she didn’t leave the motel bed. All she did was write in her journal and sleep. It wasn’t until they got settled into a mobile home in Lindsay, a small town south of Oklahoma City, that she became more active again, taking aimless walks around the trailer park with her journal in hand. 

The night before her first day of school, John quietly handed her a package of birth control pills. She waited until he left for the bar and Sam went to bed before she climbed into the shower and cried.

Deanna quickly came to hate Lindsay High School. There were only three hundred students and all them seemed to listen exclusively to Garth Brooks. There were also least four girls who were pregnant and another four who were rumored to be. One girl, who sat next to Deanna in home room, was seven months along and could barely fit under her desk. Every time Deanna saw her, mean, ugly thoughts raced through her mind. Deanna hated the way the girl constantly bemoaned stretch marks and having to wear overalls and baggy T-shirts every day. She _envied_ her as she rubbed her belly and watched her baby kick while the teacher droned on and on about dances and pep rallies and student council meetings.

Soon Deanna was skipping classes to smoke behind the bleachers.It was during one of these skips, when she was avoiding an ‘Abstinence Only’ sex education health class, that she first spoke to Gavin; a senior she watched stroll into her English class late one Thursday wearing ripped jeans and the only Alice In Chains T-shirt she’d seen for miles. He bummed her lighter and complimented her on her Led Zeppelin T-shirt while she flirted with him. With his dark hair and, as she soon learned, love of drawing, he reminded her of Robbie. 

A week after first talking to Gavin she had sex with him in the backseat of his car. She didn’t talk to him much after that. 

By November, Deanna was flunking most of her classes. She wanted to leave Lindsay, she wanted to leave Oklahoma.But John didn’t have much of a reason to leave. In the almost three months they had spent in the town, there were no strange deaths or odd occurrences.The area was quiet and monsters seemed to avoid the town like the plague. There was almost next to nothing in the newspapers that would justify a hunt. To make matters worse, Sam had joined the local soccer team and John had gotten a job as a mechanic. For the first time in years, things were almost stable at home.

On November second, she didn’t even bother going to school. She walked Sam to his building and she went right back home where she spent the whole day listening to Beatles cassette tapes, writing in her journal and chain smoking menthols.When John didn’t come back home after work, she was expecting it, but she dreaded it just the same. Her night was going to be one of broken whiskey bottles and puke at best, and a dented wall (or face) at worst.She wanted to wait up for him, make sure he got home okay and didn't get himself arrested, but by the time midnight rolled around and he still hadn’t returned home, she gave up and went to bed.

Two hours later, Deanna was woken by the sound of John stumbling into the house and mumbling under his breath.His mumbles gave way to a loud cacophony of swears as he knocked something over. She got out of bed quickly, finding him sitting on the couch with a nearly empty bottle clutched tightly in his hand. A lamp was knocked over and broken on the floor. 

“Dad. You’ve had enough.” She pleaded with a desperate sigh. “It’s time you stopped. Why don’t you go to bed?”  
  
“Stop?” John scoffed, anger filling his voice. “You’re one to talk about stoppin’. You sure as fuck _don’t_ know when to stop.” 

Deanna froze.

John took a swig from the bottle as he looked up at her, his eyes narrowed in disgust. “I leave you in New York to teach you damn lesson and all you do is get yourself knocked up by the first boy that looks at you sideways.” He snapped. “I didn’t raise you to be a two bit whore.”

Deanna stood there for moment, her eyes filling with tears, before she turned around walked back into her and Sam’s room, shutting the door behind her before she slumped down next to it. She didn’t leave the room when she heard John toss the bottle across the living room or when he fell off the couch. She just listened when she heard him crawling his way into the bathroom, gaging and groaning into the toilet. 

Instead, Deanna climbed back into her bed, absently rubbing her hand over her stomach while she cried. She cried until she fell asleep, thinking of the swell she never had and the kicks she never felt. Dreaming of a baby boy named Harrison she’d never get to know. 


End file.
